


Out in the Open

by Paclipas



Series: Forgiven not Forgotten [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkwardness, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Banter, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Castiel Drives the Impala (Supernatural), Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Drunk Castiel (Supernatural), Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Folklore, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Minor Injuries, Passive-aggression, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Road Trips, Sam Winchester is So Done, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn, friendship breakup, long overdue conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paclipas/pseuds/Paclipas
Summary: Cooped up in the bunker with a more than pissed off angel, Dean struggles with finding the right time to ask for forgiveness, even though time is what they seem to have more than enough of these days.When a case comes up across the country, it provides an opportunity to finally talk about what has slowly been tearing them apart over the years- and to maybe find their way back to each other in the process.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Forgiven not Forgotten [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564558
Comments: 9
Kudos: 173





	1. Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This idea got kicked into gear by my one-shot "Olive Branches" which directly deals with the fallout of 15x03 and Castiel coming back after that. Shoutout to the commenter on that story who pointed out that Dean is going to need a whole forest of olive branches for Cas to forgive him. I couldn't agree more, so here it is. I don't think you necessarily need to read the other one first for this story to make sense (though feel free to), but I'm building upon the dynamic established in it additionally to what the show has given us. 
> 
> It's a work in progress for now, though I doubt it will turn out very long, as it's been a hot minute since I've written anything above one-shot territory. Feedback is always appreciated! 
> 
> x

It turned out luck was not really on their side even without Chuck actively breathing down their necks. Unless causing minor accidents to further lower their morale was his new MO, in which case… Could be worse, in Dean’s opinion.

Either way, the trio- who spent the majority of their time calling around to check in with other hunters (Dean and Sam) reading (Sam and Cas) or avoiding each other (Cas and Dean)- was haunted by a string of bad luck. Though, _haunted_ was rather the wrong descriptor seeing as they had already checked for ghosts, curses, hex-bags and the likes and come up empty handed. There was no apparent supernatural explanation for the overall spread of misery among them.

Eileen had marked the start, coming down with the flu (turns out coming back from the dead means you gotta refresh those vaccinations, who knew) and was staying at the hospital for a few days. Mostly to humor Sam. She’d beaten death, she’d make it through a little fever- her words, not Dean’s. While she’d been gone, Sam had twisted his ankle on one of his jogs and fallen on his arm causing quite a nasty fracture. He had allowed Cas to use just enough mojo on him to make it a clean break for easier healing. Needless to say, being two usable limbs short did not leave the younger Winchester very mobile, so being the great brother he was, Dean attempted to keep his spirits up.

“Talk about a health _trip,_ huh.”

“Shut up, Dean.” The reply came from both Sam and Cas simultaneously, neither in the slightest bit amused by Dean’s obvious comedic genius.

Dean wasn’t laughing for long, waking up with mind-numbing pain in his lower back only a few days later. He was still better off than his brother, movement-wise, but it hurt like a bitch nonetheless. His solution was to walk around with a hot water bottle tied around his waist with the tying-belt of his morning robe.

One morning he was in the bunker kitchen, absentmindedly rubbing at the soreness in his back while waiting for the kettle to boil, when Cas walked in. Usually they managed fairly well to navigate their daily lives around each other. Dean liked coffee in the morning, Cas in the afternoon. Dean brought Sam his lunch, Cas his dinner. If Dean was in the war room, Cas was looking through the archives. And so on and so forth. There was no open hostility between them, though Cas usually made it a point to only interact with Dean when directly spoken to. Or to insult him, as it turned out.

“It’s quite normal at your age, with your lifestyle. The back pain.” Cas told him casually, observing Dean’s slightly hunched-over posture. Which was grand coming from the angel, wasn’t the bastard like _a trillion_ years old?! Dean was barely in his forties, goddamnit. The kettle was boiling at that very moment, interrupting what would surely have become a snappy retort. Instead, Dean filled up his hot water bottle and secured the heat source in place. The warmth immediately helped. He met Cas’ eyes for a moment, though the expression in them was unreadable to him. It was like looking at a stranger and Dean hated it. So he left, without saying anything.

Cas had been staying with them for what felt like ages, though realistically it couldn’t have been longer than a week. He’d been helping out with looking for hunts in the beginning and now supported them in the bunker-turned-infirmary. It seemed like the angel was staying for good and Dean was still at a loss for how to make his inexcusable behavior up to the guy. So for the time being he pretended like everything was fine and tried to stay out of the angel’s hair.

**...**

When Eileen got released from the hospital Cas was the one to pick her up, with Sam obviously incapable of and Dean probably disproportionately whiny about driving due to their respective injuries. To add insult to, well, _injury_ Dean suggested the angel take the Impala, but the offer remained unacknowledged and Cas left in his piece-of-shit truck. Even Sam agreed that this weighed a bit too heavily on the passive-aggression scale, which made Dean wonder how much his brother actually knew about the words that had been exchanged between him and Cas. Or maybe Cas hadn’t talked to Sam at all.

Eileen looked a bit worse for wear as she walked through the half-open door to Sam’s room, stopping at the edge of the bed. Both Winchesters were sitting on it, surrounded by what appeared to be all the pillows the bunker had to offer. Dean had three in the small of his back, Sam was propped up against two and his still swollen ankle and the arm currently in a makeshift cast were supported by two more. The brothers mirrored her smile.

“Hey, look who’s back,” Dean said.

“You both look terrible,” Eileen stated after giving them a once-over.

Dean signed ‘thank you’ at her, making sure to send her the most sarcastic look he could muster. The bitch faces were still more Sam’s forte. He then got up, surprised that it was less painful than anticipated, and made his way to the door. “I’ll let Sam fill you in on all the great research that lead nowhere you missed out on.” He squeezed her shoulder as he walked past her. “Glad you’re feeling better.”

Dean closed the door behind himself as he left the room out of habit, though he realized the action could be misinterpreted as giving them some privacy. Though maybe that wouldn’t hurt them either. Eileen really had helped Sam with processing Rowena’s legacy and supported him as a friend. And sometimes it was just really nice to have a friend around instead of just your brother. He was quick to realize the irony in that particular thought after the way he treated Cas.

Speaking of Cas- where was the angel?

A look at his watch told Dean that it was just after three p.m., which meant he could really go for an afternoon snack. If he happened to run into Cas on his coffee refill break, so be it. He strolled casually into the kitchen, pepared to act very surprised. He was _not_ prepared to find the room empty. Damnit. He grumpily grabbed a fork and some leftovers from the fridge, not bothering to even warm them.

This was getting ridiculous. They couldn’t continue like this forever. It wasn’t even that Dean didn’t know _what_ to say, on the contrary he had spent countless nights trying out the words in his head until they fit just right. ButDean was afraid he’d now waited too long to deliver his apology and Cas would throw it right back at him. Return to sender. And the longer he waited the more the fear consumed him, holding his words hostage.

This was why when Cas finally _did_ show up to get his coffee, Dean took his plate full of cold food and left the kitchen in a silent gesture of surrender.

**...**

Thanksgiving was a sad affair, with none of them really up for cooking a bird though they definitely had the kitchen for it. Instead the four of them ordered pizzas and gathered around Sam’s bed to watch ‘the game’ just for the sake of it. Eileen, taking up the least space out of all of them, was sitting next to Sam on the mattress. Dean and Cas were occupying a chair to the left and right of the bed respectively, with Cas on Sam’s other side.

“I’m thankful to be alive,” Eileen said at some point. They could all agree with that sentiment, though it came with the dark implication that this was nothing to be taken for granted and most of their friends were _not_.

Cas was being even more quiet than usual, Dean noticed. He didn’t touch any of the pizzas, instead opting for some bourbon out of the one liquor cabinet that had so far been spared by Dean. Drowning his sorrows in booze in true Winchester fashion. Had it been a healthier habit, the hunter would have been proud.

Jody called to wish them a happy thanksgiving, but really she was just checking in on the Chuck-situation. Dean couldn’t tell whether she sounded relieved or unsure at their lack of news.

After the game they watched some seasonal hallmark movie which got progressively more cliched as it continued and ended with a resolution that surprised no one. Eileen being asleep with her head on Sam’s shoulder was further evidence for this. The younger hunter gently shook her awake.

“I’m beat,” Dean lied as he got up from his spot, stretching carefully in order to not upset his healing back muscles. He gathered some of the half-empty pizza cartons from the floor, while a still groggy Eileen assisted Sam to the sink so he could brush his teeth. Cas was not much help three quarters of a bottle into his bourbon. Dean nudged him gently with his elbow. “C’mon.”

The full extent of the angel’s intoxication became evident when he tried to get to his feet, swaying dangerously. Eileen reacted first, hunter instincts kicking in, and took the cartons from Dean’s hands so he could grab a hold of the unsteady angel. “S’alright, buddy, I gotcha,” he mumbled as he staggered slightly under the added weight on his aching body.

Sam looked on with a helpless frown, toothbrush in hand. “Ish he okay?” he asked around a mouthful of foam.

“S’alright,” Dean repeated once he had Cas more steadily on his own feet instead of half-carrying the angel. “Just had one too many, we’ve all been there.” One or ten, who was really counting. “I’ll get him to his room. Will you two manage by yourselves?”

He took the simultaneous eye-rolls he received as affirmation and just grinned at them before half walking, half dragging Cas out of the room and down the hallway. Once at the angel’s designated room, he hesitated. The hunter hadn’t been in there since their falling out and he hadn’t been all that welcome then. This time Cas wasn’t lucid enough to complain though, so Dean proceeded to open the door. He did have some difficulties, seeing as he had an armful of angel to deal with, but eventually Cas ended up on the mattress of his own bed. Dean was just about to leave when he felt a hand around his wrist.

“Thankyou...” Cas’ words were slurred together and his eyes were closed.

“Don’t mention it, Cas. Just sleep it off.”

“Still hav’n’t forgiv’n you.” The hand on his wrist disappeared. “Hav’to earn it...” As soon as the mumbled sentence trailed off, the angel’s breathing became heavy as he succumbed to the knock-out powers that was the Men of Letters liquor stash.

And maybe it was the alcohol softening the words, or maybe it was wishful thinking, but Dean felt at that moment that maybe it wasn’t too late for his apology after all.

**...**

The unusual lack of events in the continental US – of the monstrous variety, that is- came to an end just as Dean was beginning to get antsy. He didn’t remember the last time he’d stayed at the bunker this long without hitting the road for more than a grocery run and he could feel the slow and creeping onset of cabin fever constricting him more viciously each passing day.

“So, get this!”

Sam’s words came just before Dean was about ready to bounce. The younger hunter was sitting at one of the long wooden tables below the bunker’s entrance with his bad leg propped up on a second chair. His eyes were rapidly flying over the screen of the laptop set on the table. Dean mouthed a silent ‘thank god’ into his coffee mug before he could help it. Hopefully God had nothing to do with what Sam had discovered.

“There’s been some disappearances,” Sam began, turning around the laptop so Dean could see the screen from where he was sitting at the other side of the table. “In the wilderness around Holland Lake.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Dean admitted.

“Montana. Not far from Columbia Falls,” Sam elaborated, seeming somewhat impatient that Dean couldn’t keep track of every damn geographic location.

“That makes you think it’s our kind of disappearances?” Don’t get him wrong, he’d welcome a case. But also, it was a long freaking drive to Montana.

“Five people went missing so far, all on a Friday, all around the trails along the lake.”

Dean frowned at the information. “Sounds like a bunch of inexperienced idiots getting lost on their weekend hike to me, man.”

“That’s what I though too,” Sam retorted, his words coming with more speed as he pulled up another newspaper article on the screen. “Only that two of the bodies were found. Mangled and apparently poisoned by a mysterious substance.”

“Overkill,” Dean murmured as he read through the same information for himself. “What’s their explanation?”

“That they got surprised by a shift in the weather and fell off a cliff.” Sam shrugged, reclaiming the laptop. “Doesn’t explain the poison though.”

And yeah, Dean had to agree with that. Something about the whole thing was wrong, and he was pretty sure it was their kind of wrong. Except he didn’t know any monster operating like that. Poison could mean djinn, or siren or who knows what but they usually kept their torture psychological and then moved on to not raise suspicions, dumping the victims quietly unless they followed a vendetta. The mangled bodies would be more likely the evidence of a werewolf. The combination didn’t make sense.

Cue, the walking encyclopedia that was their resident angel. Cas was trying to quickly pass the chatting brothers, back to avoiding Dean like before his drunken musings on thanksgiving. Perhaps even more so. Dean pretended like he hadn’t noticed. “We might have a case,” he called out, effectively catching the angel’s attention.

“Oh?” Cas was behind Sam in just a few strides. The eagerness in his steps made Dean think that maybe the angel had also grown tired of being cooped-up all day every day.

Sam texted Eileen to also join them before they filled Cas in on what they had so far. Off the top of his head the angel could not think of any entity hat would fit the pattern on the two recovered vics either. He asked a few more questions, all directed at Sam, before straightening himself up. “When do we leave?”

Sam huffed a laugh, pointing at his propped up ankle. “Sorry, but I’ll have to sit this one out.”

 _Look who was allowed to make puns!_ Dean folded his arms over his chest, sulking.

“I’ll stay too,” Eileen proclaimed. Dean was surprised, he thought she looked perfectly healthy again. As if reading his mind, she coughed. It wasn’t convincing, but Dean didn’t miss the glance she gave Sam as she did it and he decided was not going to question her.

“Guess it’s just gonna be you and Dean then,” Sam said, aimed at Cas. The younger Winchester kept his voice even, but Dean noticed the tension in his brother’s jaw as he waited for the angel’s response. Dean clenched his fists around his crossed arms in mirrored anticipation. Their little feud had been becoming more and more noticeable and by this point everyone was fed up with it.

For a long moment it was like no one was breathing, especially not Cas who stood so perfectly still, Dean was tempted to snap his fingers in front of the angel’s face a couple of times.

“It’s fine. I’ll go by myself,” he finally said, nodding his head with determination.

Dean somehow felt like the words were a kick to the gut. “Like hell you ain’t.” He hadn’t meant for the words to come out but there they were. He met Cas’ eyes and held the angel’s glare, trying to read the emotion in it. The hunter came up empty and threw up his arms in a defeated gesture. “Fine, we’ll call Jody. Have her and some of the other hunters handle it.”

“That’s not necessary, we shouldn’t risk her being away from the girls.” -the special emphasis on Claire was implied- “Especially when we are unsure of Chuck’s whereabouts.”

“Cas is right,” Sam said, heaving a heavy sigh and running a hand through his hair.

The look the angel sent Dean’s way was nothing short of gloating. “I’m glad we agree,” he said.

“Hold on,” Sam continued. “Dean’s right too. You’re not going alone.” When Cas was about to protest, the younger Winchester countered with a bitchface-extraordinare that allowed no further discussion.

It was now Dean’s turn to gloat, throwing the angel’s question back at him. “When do we leave?”

**...**

It only occurred to Dean much later, as he was gathering his things in a worn duffle bag that him winning the argument meant he was about to spend twenty hours in a car alone with Cas and suddenly his victory came with the bitter aftertaste of nervousness.

If he played his cards carefully, this was his best shot at getting the angel to listen to an apology. Whether he liked it or not. Cas couldn’t just flutter off like he used to, though Dean knew that if the angel truly didn’t want to speak he could stay so silent that he may as well have left. Countless unanswered prayers, some more recent than others, were testimony to that.

Dean was so lost in thoughts about the upcoming car ride from hell, he didn’t hear his brother enter the room. “You two gonna be okay?” Sam asked, startling Dean almost out of his skin.

“The hell?” he complained, glaring at Sam. It took another moment and Sam’s pointedly raised eye-brow for Dean to realize his brother was freely standing there on both his legs. “The _hell_?!” he repeated dumbly.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Cas insisted. Said if it’s just gonna be Eileen and me he wants me to at least be able to walk.”

Dean’s eyes fell on the cast still fixed around his brother’s arm. “He run out of juice?” His intention had been to make a joke but the words came out concerned. A look at Sam told him he was spot on with the assumption. Damn.

“He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it,” Sam said, “but he’s not in the best shape. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Me? Too hard on _him?_ I don’t know where you’ve been lately but I’m not the one making things difficult here.”

The younger hunter looked skeptical. “Sure.” Clearly there was more he wanted to say.

“What?” Dean asked, getting annoyed.

“Look,” Sam said. He was using his diplomatic voice. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and I don’t think I even want to know. But if we’re gonna do something about Chuck you gotta get the hell over yourselves. Both of you.”

Dean hated when his brother was right. He’d rather give Baby's bonnet racing stripes than admit it though. “You done?”

“Just fix it, Dean,” Sam said, already turning around to leave. Dean kept uselessly shifting around the clothes in his bag until Sam was gone.

“I’m trying,” he mumbled under his breath.

**...**


	2. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing a 20 hour car ride won't fix, right?

When they finally hit the road it was already past noon. It was a gray, unfriendly day and the road was wet from rain. Once they were outside the city limits of Lebanon, Dean floored the gas pedal in an attempt to get them as far as possible before it got too late. They didn’t have many hours of daylight left. Usually that wouldn’t bother Dean, who preferred driving in the dark, but something about being in an enclosed space in the middle of the night on some mid-western back-road with a decidedly pissed-off angel did not sound particularly appealing to the hunter.

Cas was sitting in the passenger seat and was being so eerily still that Dean doubted he was even breathing. He was scrolling through the articles Sam had found. Out of all the weird things Dean had encountered over the years, Cas using a smartphone with anything close to adeptness probably took the cake.

When the silence got too much to handle it was time to bring out the tapes. Dean fumbled with the buttons on Baby’s tape deck, unsure of what he’d last listened to. The beginning of _Born in the USA_ started playing. Springsteen would do.

He found himself absentmindedly tapping the rhythm to the song on his steering wheel. It felt good to finally be on the road again. It allowed for a sense of freedom the hunter was always itching for whenever he stayed in one place for too long. For a time when they had just discovered the bunker he’d thought of it as a new home. Too much had happened since then. They’d lost too many people for it to still feel like a safe haven.

For now, the road was his home again, like it had been for the majority of his life.

By the time the song changed into the next one the rain outside had gotten heavier and Dean could barely make out the blurred back lights of the occasional car in front of him. It didn’t matter. Baby was faster anyway. and when the chorus came up, he broke into song out of habit.

“You can’t start a fiiire. Can’t start a fire without a-”

The music stopped abruptly. Turned out Cas wasn’t a fan of Dean’s rendition of _Dancing in the Dark_. “I’m trying to read,” the angel said coldly.

“Got it,” Dean said, not in the mood to quote the rule of all rules about who gets to pick the music. The song was still on his mind though and he was humming the melody quietly while the road stretched on endlessly in front of them. Cas wouldn’t have that either.

“Dean!”

“Sorry!” Dean exclaimed defensively. “You pick something then!”

Dean hadn’t expected much to happen, least of all Cas actually reaching for the shoe-box filled with the mix tapes that had accompanied the Winchesters though all their trauma and choosing one of the cassettes with determination. One swift change of tapes later, a familiar melancholic melody filled the car.

On another day Dean may have cracked a joke at the irony in the angel’s choice but currently he was too impressed with Cas’ music taste to comment. He looked fondly at his passenger until he was caught staring, forcing his eyes to return to the road.

The angel turned up the volume on _Stairway to Heaven_ , drowning out the noise of the engine.

**...**

Shortly after crossing into Wyoming Baby demanded a refill. They’d been following the I-80 for the better part of six hours in the pouring rain and no end was in sight even as Dean pulled up at a Gas’n’Sip.

“Want anything?” he asked out of habit.

For a moment he was sure Cas would ignore him but once more he was surprised. “I would like a slushie.”

“A slushie?” Dean raised his eye-brows. “Alright, sure.” He shrugged and got out of the car. A _slushie_ , of all things. What was the world coming to.

It wasn’t much later when he returned, soaking wet from the rain. Baby was good to go again and Dean was only one gas station hot dog of questionable quality away from it. He handed Cas his requested drink. “They only had blue raspberry, the _worst_ flavor,” he said apologetically.

The angel shrugged. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Dean disagreed but didn’t verbalize it around a mouthful of stale sausage.

And holy shit, somewhere mid-chew Dean suddenly remembered where the angel even had had the freaking chance to acquire a taste for blue raspberry slushies as if they were a well-aged liquor. He couldn’t help but laugh, memories of _Steve the sales associate_ flashing in his mind.

“What?” Cas asked before taking a long sip.

Dean chuckled and started the car, aimed straight back to the interstate. “Nothin’,” he said. “Just remembered your first job on Earth.”

Cas just gave him a funny look. “My first job on Earth was to save the righteous man.”

“Right.” Had he ever even thanked the angel for that? If he had he couldn’t remember. Which wasn’t great, let’s be honest. He sighed heavily under the weight of his conscience. “Regretting it by now?”

It was Cas’ turn to sigh, his head dropping against the car’s side window. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Dean didn’t dare look at the angel, pointedly ignoring the flutter in his stomach at the words. This was all the hope he’d needed.

“I want to make it up to you." He said the words quietly, almost more to himself than their intended target. He gripped the wheel harder, pleading with the angel for a chance. "Please, just... Let me listen. All the times you think I didn't care? Tell me about them.”

"Dean...” Cas' voice trailed off painfully. He continued to stare out the window at the passing darkness. "I don't know if that is such a good idea."

It wasn’t an outright ‘no’, so the hunter pushed his luck. "We'll never know until we try."

Cas just hummed thoughtfully in what could have been agreement. Dean didn’t push any further. He could wait.

**...**

By midnight they had almost crossed through the entire state of Wyoming without speaking a word to each other. Dean was getting too tired to care. He decided getting to Montana was a tomorrow problem and pulled off the highway at an exit that would get them to the next motel. It was a shabby looking place that couldn’t have had more than six rooms total. The only other car in the parking lot was a rusty Jeep. Dean parked next to it.

Cas knew the spiel, so their silence continued as Dean got out and left to fetch a room key. When he returned the angel was standing outside in the still relentless rain, waiting. Dean tossed him the key once he was within reach. “Number three.”

The angel went to the door while Dean jogged through the rain to get his bag from where he had tossed it on the backseat. It didn’t take him much time at all but by the time he set foot in the room he was soaked from head to toe.

As far as the room was concerned, he’d seen worse. It was small and sparsely furnished, but clean. There were two twin size beds pushed on opposite walls with a shared side table between them. Cas was sitting on the one at the far end of the room, still in his coat.

“Didn’t know how much you're sleeping these days,” Dean said, almost flinching as his words broke through the silence in the room.

Instead of a verbal answer, Cas shrugged out of the coat, folding it on the mattress next to where he was sitting. He then toed off his shoes and moved up on the bed until he was positioned with his back resting against the headboard, hands casually resting on his stomach. He closed his eyes as if to prove a point.

“Okay then,” Dean mumbled. The temperature had dropped quite a bit compared to what it had been in Kansas and his wet clothes weren’t exactly helping. He needed a hot shower and then at least a couple of hours worth of shuteye. The hunter peeled out of his wet flannel and t-shirt, unceremoniously dropping them to the floor. As he opened the door to the bathroom he could swear that he felt the angel’s eyes on his back but when he turned to look, Cas’ eyes were still shut.

About an hour later Dean had his head buried under his pillow, waiting for sleep to consume him. There was only one small problem. Across the room the bed frame squeaked and groaned with every shift of the angel’s weight on it. By the fifth toss, Dean snapped.

“Dude. Seriously.”

To his surprise Cas actually responded. “I’m sorry, Dean. I just- I can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He somewhat regretted the harsh tone of voice but come on. It was 2 am and he needed some damn rest. Blindly he reached for the bedside table, hand searching until he found the remote. He tossed it in the general direction of the other bed. “Watch some infomercials or somethin’.”

Cas made a disapproving noise that told Dean he would do no such thing. “I don’t think that would help.”

“You know what’s not helping?” Dean asked, opening one eye to send the angel a what he hoped to be threatening glare from under the pillow. “You keep talkin’.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Jesus. Of all the possible times of course Cas had to choose then to stop it with the silent treatment. Dean sighed his defeat and sat up in bed, adjusting his pillow as a backrest. “Fine. What’s keeping you awake?”

“If we survive. What will come after?”

“What d’you mean ‘if we survive’? It’s just a hunt, man. We’ll get our asses back to the bunker, tell Sam what he missed out on...” Dean swallowed hard, well aware what the angel had really been referring to.

Cas played along. “Yeah. I suppose.”

There was a long silence during which Dean contemplated whether or not he should say more. Give an actual answer. He didn’t know how much time passed before he came to a decision.

“But seriously, if we pull this off. Killing God. And the world somehow’s still turning? I’m ready to retire. Take some time off and rent a cabin somewhere. Maybe go fishing or whatever folks do in the middle of nowhere when they got too much time on their hands.” The idea had been loosely floating in his mind for a while but this was the first time he’d said it out loud. Somehow it felt right for Cas to be the one to hear it before anyone else.

“’Sides. You could come visit, if you want. Relax. You deserve it as much as I do. And… I’d want you there.” A smile rang in his voice as he was quick to follow up the raw confession with some good old deflection. “Plus, I make a mean smoked trout. You wouldn’t wanna miss out on that.”

He expected some sort of huffed response like he usually got when he shamelessly boasted about something. Instead he was met by silence. He turned his head to look at the other bed. “Cas?”

The angel appeared to be sound asleep.

A part of Dean was glad that his secret seemingly would still remain one, though he’d found an odd sense of delight in sharing it with Cas. He settled back into bed, allowing his eyes to fall shut again. Maybe it was for the best that the angel hadn’t heard everything.

**...**

Early the next morning Dean woke up to a text from Sam warning them of some heavy snowfall in Montana, which was just great. It wasn’t that he necessarily had something against snow but on a hunt it had rarely done them any good. Add to that the fact that he had neglected to pack warmer clothes than what he’d been wearing on the drive and he already had the beginning of a low tier disaster brewing. A look at Cas’ bed revealed it empty and neatly made, showing no sign of having been used though of course Dean knew better.

It didn’t take the hunter long to get dressed and ready for the day. The morning wasn’t any different from hundreds of others and the routine was ingrained deeply in his bones, including checking and re-checking all the weapons he carried on his person before he was ready to leave. The clothes he’d been wearing the night before hadn’t dried completely, so he just shoved them in a damp pile into his bag while already walking out the door.

Once in the driver’s seat he checked his phone. Since he’d paid for the room upfront on arrival, they were ready to leave but the angel was still nowhere to be seen. As his thumb hovered above the call icon Dean found himself missing the old days where Cas had just been a thought away. Just as he was about to call, the door on the passenger side was yanked open and Cas plopped into the seat, awkwardly balancing two vending machine coffees. He handed one to Dean.

“Apologies, I didn’t expect to take this long”

Cas’ voice lacked the cold undertone the angel had taken to using with Dean but it was still painfully neutral. Unreadable. Dean’s stomach twisted slightly at the observation but he played it off as hunger as he downed the plastic cup of what barely passed as coffee and shifted the car into gear before speeding off the parking lot and back towards the highway.

They just stopped at another gas station to get some food and drinks for the rest of the drive to minimize how often they had to stop. Dean was functioning on just about five hours of sleep and he was confident he could get them to Columbia Falls by the evening if he just provided his body with enough saturated fats and sugar.

The by now familiar silence settled back between them, keeping them at a distance. Dean had hoped that some time away from the bunker would give them enough breathing room to settle their conflict as it had done often enough before but it didn’t come easy this time. Every night Dean thought Cas was getting more receptive to his admittedly poor attempts of smoothing things over, only forthe angelto snap right back to being distant in the morning.

He knew for a fact Cas was waiting for him to make things right and earn his forgiveness. Though the grim reality currently seemed to be that Cas wasn’t ready to forgive him however hard he tried.

The shiver running through his body had nothing to do with the temperature outside as they crossed into Montana.

Not soon after, the snow began to fall.

**...**

Even with steady snowfall they made good time. It felt like they were consistently the only ones on the road and Dean didn’t blame anyone for not driving in this weather. It was windy outside so the snow didn’t calmly settle on the ground, it got blown all over the place in a chaotic flurry. The radio was playing a country station Cas had chosen- completely destroying his faith in the angel’s taste all over- and since Dean was still trying to get on his good side he hadn’t objected. Though he’d badly wanted to. Between the windscreen wipers barely keeping up with clearing the window and some guy serenading his tractor, Dean found himself leaning ever so slightly forward to keep an eye on the road.

“I can take over, if you want,” Cas offered.

Immediately the hunter straightened his back. “I’m good, thanks.” Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Cas sending him a doubtful look, giving him the urge to defend himself. “I’ve driven in worse conditions.”

“Very well. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Dean stubbornly drove on for about an hour and a half, keeping his back painfully straight even as the merciless weather threw some low-hanging fog into the mix for good measure. When him continuing to drive at this visibility dipped just to the wrong side of recklessness, he gave in and reluctantly pulled over. It was a quick switch between them and Dean was thankful that Cas didn’t comment on his victory over the hunter’s pride.

Once he’d more or less comfortably settled into the passenger seat, Dean took his break in driving as an opportunity to finally change the godawful radio channel. As he reached over, his hand was slapped away.

“Driver picks the music,” Cas said matter-of-factly.

All Dean could do in response was huff incredulously. The damn angel had been playing him like a fiddle the entire time. He couldn’t find it within himself to be upset, glad that good old pain-in-the-ass Cas was still somewhere in the muted version currently driving them through Montana. He absentmindedly nursed his abused hand, smiling to himself.

**...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a quick update since it's the weekend, might take a bit longer for the next one. Stay tuned!


	3. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension between hunter and angel boils over, just as they get a rough idea what they might be after.

They arrived later than planned, even with Cas’ allegedly superior driving, but it was still early enough that they decided to drop by the sheriff’s office. They could gather some intel first, share it with Sam and then get an early start the next day. Even though the area surrounding Columbia Falls was popular with hikers, it seemed to be dead this time of the year. Making a sudden influx in disappearances all the more worrisome.

Dean didn’t bother changing into his suit, willing to take the risk that they were far enough in the back country that even the mention of being a fed would give him an air of authority. Also, Cas still somewhat looked the part. The waiting room at the sheriff's office was empty, as was the front desk. There was, however, a small bell with a post-it note attached to it telling them to ring it. Dean did.

A moment later a lanky man with a gray handlebar mustache stepped out of a room to join them. By the looks of it it was the sheriff himself. “What can I do for you?” he asked somewhat grumpily.

Dean stepped forward, pulling a fake badge from his jacket and trusting Cas to do the same. “I’m Agent Elliott, this is my partner Agent Collens, FBI. We’re here about the recent disappearances.”

“FBI? They didn’t tell me they’d send anyone.” The sheriff eyed the badges with the kind of skepticism that made Dean ever so slightly nervous. It was always a pain in the ass to work a case while also avoiding local police. After the initial scrutiny the sheriff seemed to buy it. “I guess after the latest body was found it became a much bigger deal.” He stepped forward, extending his hand to Dean and introducing himself. “Jeff Hanson.”

Cas stepped forward, opting out of the handshake. “The latest body?”

“Yeah, discovered this morning. Figured that’s why you’re here?”

“Yes. Of course.” Cas remained stoic but Dean noticed his shoulders grow tense. With every body that turned up it became less likely to find survivors. They had to work fast.

“Anything you can tell us about the victims, leads, suspects... we’d greatly appreciate,” Dean told the sheriff.

Hanson sighed tiredly. “I’m afraid it’s not much Agent- Elliott, was it?” Dean nodded. “Let me just grab what we got, I’ve been mulling it over for so long I might already be blind to what’s in font of me.” He disappeared back into the room, which was in all likelihood his office.

“Sam didn’t know about the newest victim,” Cas stated grimly when they were alone.

“They’re probably trying to keep it on the down-low. No reports until it’s necessary,” Dean assured the angel.

Before they could say more, the sheriff returned with a thin folder, handing it to Dean. “This has all the profiles of those who disappeared this past month, as well as a map of where bodies were found. I’m still waiting on the coroner’s report on today’s body. To be honest, I was still kind of hoping they’re accidents- but now with the feds involved I guess I gotta face some facts.”

“We appreciate your cooperation, Sheriff Hanson,” Dean said reassuringly as he flipped through the pages on file, stopping on the map where three circles marked the dumping grounds for the bodies. They were not far from one another but not close to any trail. He tapped the map with his index finger. “We’ll have to check this place out tomorrow.”

The sheriff bellowed out a laugh. “I’m sorry to tell you, but there’s a blizzard warning out for tomorrow. I gotta advise you to stay in.”

“Your advice has been taken into consideration,” Cas mumbled and turned on his heel. “I’ll call… headquarters.” With that he left the building.

“Well ain’t he just a ray of sunshine,” the sheriff commented sarcastically.

“Yeah, sorry about that. He’s been, uh, having a rough time lately.” Dean said, closing the file in his hands and holding it up appreciatively. “Thanks again, we’ll check in with you if we need something.”

Before he was out the door, the sheriff spoke up once more. “If you’re serious about wanting to still go out tomorrow, you’ll need to dress a lot warmer than this, Agent.”

“Noted,” Dean replied, already aware he’d have to get a hold of some more suited clothes before going on a hike in the snow to fight whatever it was they’re hunting.

He was not looking forward to this.

Outside Cas was pacing back and forth along the Impala, uncharacteristically fidgety. Dean was at a loss regarding how to deal with the angel’s constant flip-flopping between agitation and complete lack of emotion. “Hey,” he called out, “Would it have killed you to be nicer to the guy?”

The angel stopped and turned around, glaring at Dean. “We have no time for niceties, Dean. Three people are dead and there’s not much hope for the ones still missing.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Dean’s temper was slowly but surely building up. “There’s nothing we can do about it tonight besides finding out what the hell we’re dealing with. Tomorrow we’ll grab some supplies and head out before the snow hits.”

Cas made an exasperated gesture. “I knew I should have come alone,” he muttered.

Dean felt the words hit him like slap. This wasn’t just Cas being pissed off, this was becoming a full blown angel tantrum. “Listen,” he started, trying to keep the anger out of his own voice, “I get it. Things aren’t exactly easy right now but-”

“We’re not having this conversation here,” the angel hissed, looking past Dean at the sheriff’s office. A look over his own shoulder revealed that they were being watched through the window. Cas had a point. Dean walked up to where Cas was standing right by the driver’s side of the car, stepping just a bit closer than he would have usually. Cas handed over the keys without protest, but the angel’s eyes showed his silent fury.

The tension between them was thicker than before as they drove off to find a place to stay for the night.

Dean was _definitely_ not looking forward to this.

**...**

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Dean said, dropping his bag by the door. “Hit me.”

They had found a room in a hostel close to the road that would get them to the hiking routes the victims had disappeared from but there were no other guests currently staying there. Even if there had been, Dean was past caring who overheard their words at that point.

“Hit me!” he repeated, throwing out his arms in an invitation.

Cas rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “Dean, what-”

The hunter didn’t let him finish. “I thought we could talk things over but you clearly aren’t up for that. Thing is, we can’t work if you’re just gonna be resentful the entire time. So, get it out of your system. Punch me in the face or something, it’ll make you feel better. We both know I deserve-”

Cas’ right hook hit him square in the jaw hard enough to make Dean stumble backwards against the closed door. He could taste blood.

A few steps away the angel was flexing his fingers, looking almost as surprised as Dean felt. “You were right. I do feel better.”

Dean swore under his breath and dragged himself to one of the beds in the room. His head was ringing from the unexpected punch. “Damn, Cas.”

The angel stepped closer to him, dropping down on the mattress next to Dean just far enough away that they weren’t touching. It was the closest Cas had voluntarily gotten to him in weeks. Dean didn’t dare move other than running his tongue along his split lip. When Cas spoke his voice sounded defeated.

“I _am_ resentful,” he admitted solemnly. “I resent the fact that I am no longer angry, even though I have every right to be.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Dean grumbled, lifting a hand to his aching jaw. _Not angry his ass_.

“Dean, you _asked_ _me_ to hit you.”

“I know but… “

“But you did not think I’d take you up on it? Because I always let things go? There’s always something bigger going on that requires us to overcome whatever differences we may be facing personally. For years I have accepted that keeping the peace was more important than what I was feeling and so I groveled for your forgiveness on more than one occasion even when I thought my actions had been justified. Sometimes… sometimes following you has made me lose myself. Which is ironic, seeing as I would not be who I am if not for you and your brother.”

Dean swallowed hard at the words, hoping desperately the angel was not done talking because he was in no way ready to articulate a response that would convey the deep shame slowly consuming his insides. At the same time he was not sure he could listen to more of the raw, aching honesty in Cas’ voice.

“You asked me if I regretted dragging you from Hell,” Cas continued, staring straight ahead at the brick wall across the room. “I’ve thought a lot about it, and I should, shouldn’t I? But I can say without a doubt that I do not. I could never regret saving you, Dean.” He turned his gaze toward the hunter. “That being said, I refuse to continuously shoulder the blame for everything that goes wrong in your life. I cannot be the sole scapegoat for all our losses and you cannot keep lashing out at me- or others for that matter- when things don’t go your way. If you do, expect to deal with the consequences.”

“Cas...”

“We can work the case, Dean. You don’t have to worry about my attitude, or about what lies in the past. It cannot be changed at this point.”

“Hold on,” Dean said, suddenly finding his voice again. “You think I’ve been trying to make things up to you because of the case?”

“Well, you _just_ said-”

“Dude, I’m not trying to apologize just so we can work the damn case. I’ve been trying to find the right time since you came back!”

“You… did not make that very clear.”

Dean grimaced, feeling out of his element. “Cas, you know I’m not great at the whole… emotional… apology…thing.”

“I’m painfully aware, yes.” The angel agreed with the faintest hint of a smile in his voice.

“Shut up. Point is, I know you’ve always just tried to be there for me, no matter how hard I pushed you away and I… haven’t done the same for you. I always let you walk away. But I am here now, Cas. All I’m asking is that you let me support you.”

“Okay, Dean.” With that Cas raised a hand to lay it on Dean’s cheek, though they both knew he didn’t need to be touching the skin for the divine light to heal his bruising jaw in an instant. The contact barely lasted a moment before Cas removed his hand again, but it was enough to make something stir within Dean he had almost forgotten about.

“Okay,” he echoed, mouth dry. After all this time, with everything that had happened, the fact that just a simple touch like this from Cas could make him feel like nothing else mattered felt... grounding.

There was no time to ponder more on the implications of that realization when Dean’s phone rang in his pocket. He stood abruptly to answer it, walking a few steps away from the angel on the bed to clear his mind.

“Sam,” he said by means of greeting. “Got something?”

“ _Hello to you too, Dean_ ,” his brother mocked from the other end of the line. “ _Just wanted to check in with you. How’s it going with Cas?_ ”

Dean stole a glance at the angel. “He’s fine.”

Sam huffed. “ _I mean, glad to hear that but it wasn’t exactly what I’m asking._ ”

“We haven’t killed each other yet. Cas got in a good punch though,” he said truthfully.

“ _Great_ ,” another judgmental huff traversed the line.

“I’m trying, Sam. Okay? I am.”

“ _I get it, it’s not like you two are prime conflict solving material._ ”

Dean started getting increasingly irritated. “Thanks for the analysis, Dr. Freud.”

Sam laughed. “ _Oh believe me, you do_ not _want me to go into a Freudian analysis of your relationship with Cas_.”

“Shut up, nerd,” Dean cursed, blushing furiously. Between the benevolent teasing of his brother and the ever so unsettling reaction he had whenever Cas touched him Dean did not like where this was headed. “I’ll call you once we know what we’re after.”

“ _Dean, it was a joke, jeez. Sensitive much?_ ”

Dean rolled his eyes and ended the call. When he looked at Cas the angel raised an eyebrow at him, clearly having heard the whole thing.

“Come on, time to do some homework,” Dean said, opting to pretend the past twenty or so minutes had not happened. If Cas had something more to say, he smartly kept it to himself for now.

**...**

Working on the case was a welcome distraction after the roller coaster that had been the previous two days. Dean was sitting on the bed, meticulously studying the two coroner’s reports. As the news articles had said, both victims had been poisoned, but the report contained nothing about any small wounds or bite marks that would suggest the poison was injected. There was also nothing in either victim’s stomach. Merely the tox-screen showed elevated levels of all kinds of stuff Dean wasn’t even going to attempt to pronounce. The even weirder part though was just how exactly the bodies had been mutilated. On both corpses the arms and legs had been completely crushed with not a single bone staying intact, which was oddly specific considering the rest of the bodies showed no matching abuse. It just made no sense at all.

Meanwhile Cas was studying the map the sheriff had given them and cross-referenced it with online maps as well as some hiking maps he’d found at the hostel’s reception. It was a shot in the dark but currently they were running low on options. Dean had hoped once they arrived the evidence would point them more clearly toward a familiar predator but it was looking more and more like they were dealing with something completely different.

“Dean!” Cas suddenly exclaimed. “I found something,” he held up his phone. Dean got up to look over the angel’s shoulder but made sure to keep his distance. Cas tapped the map on the small screen, zooming in until the image turned slightly pixelated. “It’s an old mine shaft. Right in the middle of where the three bodies have turned up.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dean muttered. “How come the sheriff’s not mentioned that?”

“It appears to be hidden,” Cas mused, “He may not be aware of its existence.”

“Or, he’s got something to hide,” Dean speculated. “We should definitely pay him another visit before we leave, what do you think?”

There was no answer.

“Cas?”

The angel seemed suddenly deep in thought as he stared at the phone screen, brow furrowed. “Of course,” he whispered. “It’s been so long since I last saw this, I almost missed all the evidence. And one wouldn’t expect to come across one here...”

Dean grew impatient at the nonsensical mumbling. “Hello? Earth to Castiel?”

Cas turned around to look at him intently. “My guess is we are dealing with a Bergmönch.”

The foreign syllables leaving the angel’s mouth did nothing to lessen Dean’s confusion. He raised his eyebrows helplessly. “ _Gesundheit_?”

“Gesundheit indeed!” Cas repeated way too enthusiastically. “The Bergmönch- or mountain monk if you will- is a spirit from Germanic folklore.”

“Great.” Dean could feel a headache coming on. “What’s the fucker’s business in freaking Montana?”

“That’s what we are here to find out,” Cas replied.

The next hour was spent with Cas explaining what he knew about the mountain spirit. To Dean’s understanding it was basically a German Sasquach: tall, hairy and a loner. Usually the spirit just wanted to be left the hell alone and wasn’t out for blood but something or rather someone must have disturbed its lair in the abandoned mine and unleashed its fury. Now the Bergmönch was punishing everyone that came too close by breaking their limbs and poisoning them with their breath.

(Dean’s joke about dental hygiene did not go over well at that point.)

While the angel harbored all this basic knowledge, the most important part was a mystery. What would kill it?

The Impala was well-stocked on everything from holy water to silver bullets, but Dean did not like going into a hunt without being certain he had something ready to eliminate whatever he was after. It wasn’t like they had a lot of time for a trial and error approach mid-fight.

No online search engines were of any help to them on the matter and Dean and Cas reluctantly decided to call it a night and hope Sam and Eileen had more luck in the Men of Letters international archives.

If not, they had no choice but go blindly into the hunt and hope for the best.

**...**

The next day had them dropping by the tourist office in the hopes of borrowing some mountaineering equipment. The girl behind the counter basically dropped everything she was doing to provide them with anything from snow-shoes to ropes once they flashed their badges.

As Dean put on a basically new red winter jacket he almost felt bad, knowing that the item would likely be ruined if it came to a direct confrontation with the spirit. Cas of course wasn’t affected by the cold but he too slipped on a dark parka instead of his trademark coat to keep up appearances.

Just as they were tossing everything in the car, a station wagon pulled into the parking lot. A middle-aged woman got out of it and frantically came running toward them but she did not stop at the Impala. Instead she ran inside the tourist office. She had seemed distressed enough for Dean to make the decision to follow her and see what was going on. He motioned for Cas to wait. When he stepped back inside the woman was talking to the girl that had equipped them in a panicked voice.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Dean interrupted. “Everything alright?”

The woman turned around and was just about to yell at him to mind his own business by the looks of it when he flashed his fake badge at her. Immediately her attitude changed. “Oh, thank god,” she exclaimed. “It’s my husband! He left his lunch at home this morning but when I went to bring it to his office he wasn’t there and now he’s not answering his phone. Usually I wouldn’t worry but with these people going missing and- and...” She was almost hysterical by that point so Dean gently grasped her shoulders, forcing her to focus on him.

“I need you to calm down. Me and my partner are investigating the case. Can you give me a description of your husband?”

The woman was crying and barely coherent but the girl behind the counter spoke up quietly.

“It’s the Sheriff.”

Dean immediately let go of the woman and cursed. He knew something had been off about the guy. “I’ll do my best to find him,” he promised, though he and the sheriff’s wife probably had vastly different ideas about what would happen once he did.

He stormed out the office to where Cas was waiting and ordered him to get in the car and text Sam. Not a moment later they were already on the move, tires screeching. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cas’ worried look.

“Sheriff’s gone AWOL,” he explained curtly. “We gotta find the son of a bitch.”

The blizzard brewing in the dark clouds above them was completely forgotten as they sped towards the back roads leading to the hiking trails.

**...**


	4. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things can't get worse, yet they still do. They also get a little better, though.

The first snowflakes were already swirling around by the time Dean stopped the car at the visitor’s parking area, the starting point to most of the trails circling Holland Lake. He took a good look at the few other cars parked there. All were covered under a blanket of snow, obviously having not been driven since the last snowfall. The only car free from snow was the reason for a string of colorful slurs escaping the hunter. Of fucking course it was the one they had seen outside the sheriff’s office.

“Don’t know what he’s planning but we might already be too late,” Dean said, angrily getting out of the car and gathering the materials they needed together. He hated not being in control of a situation. Even more than that he was upset over the fact that he had been so focused on Cas that he’d completely neglected the case and that was unacceptable. People were dead because of him. “Knew we shoulda done something sooner,” he mumbled to himself. “When’s waiting ever done us any good?”

“Dean.” He heard Cas say his name from somewhere behind him but ignored it. If anything it made him even more determined to get his ass on that hiking trail ASAP. He had his gun and a backpack filled with mountaineering equipment to which he had added anything out of the Impala’s trunk he could fit.

He was about to head toward the trails when he was violently yanked back, dropping the backpack he was holding as he suddenly found himself with his back pushed against his car and Cas only inches from his face, fuming.

“Dean!” the angel repeated, finally having his attention. “Put your ego aside for one moment and listen. “

Usually Dean would have protested but the surprise of being manhandled had rendered him speechless. He just stared at Cas uselessly. The angel took his silence as an opportunity to continue talking.

“I know you. In your head there are already a dozen conspiracy theories forming that would help you explain that Sheriff Hanson is somehow involved. Because he’d be someone you’d know how to fight.” Cas paused, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, hands still firmly grasping the collar of Dean’s winter jacket. “But if I am right and we are dealing with an ancient spirit -and you have to admit so far everything points toward it- then we are much more likely looking at the sheriff as another victim.”

Dean blinked a couple of times, letting the words sink in. He wasn’t completely convinced but what the angel was saying was not devoid of reason. Still, they needed to be careful. Whether the sheriff was the enemy or a victim- they had to find him either way. Dean pushed out of Cas’ grasp and the angel let him go without protest.

“Let’s just go, okay?” he said gruffly, picking up the backpack and pulling out a beanie from one of the side pockets to put it on. It was much colder than it had been the day before. “Don’t wanna get caught in the snow.”

Cas just rolled his eyes benevolently, knowing very well this was as much agreement as he would get from the hunter, and started walking.

This day was off to a _great_ start.

**...**

For a while they followed the biggest trail leading along the lake until they came to the point where the walkway split and a much narrower path lead toward the small mountain range where the bodies had been found. They had barely been hiking for an hour but the biting cold and the more than ankle-deep snow made it difficult for Dean to keep a consistent speed. Cas was steadily walking in front of him. The deeper they walked into the forest, the quieter it got around them, the snow wrapping everything into a cotton-like blanket.

In the past there had been countless times where they'd shared companionable silences like this, understanding each other without any words needing to be said. Now it felt familiar but at the same time Dean noticed they were strangers to one another. Like Cas had said, especially in the last couple of years the threats had been getting bigger, the stakes higher and there simply hadn't been time to just... Hang out.

Dean realized at that point how much he missed those days, where everything had been easier. How much he missed _Cas_. Over time his feelings regarding the angel had become much too complex, impossible to explain to anyone least of all himself. And the more their paths diverged from each other, the better Dean was able to neatly pack those feelings away and focus on sticking to their plans. For a hunter, compartmentalizing was a life-saver.

Yet now, as he was walking behind the angel somewhere in Montana's wilderness, all the big threats looming above them back home seemed so far away. It gave him a lot of time to reminisce. And a not unwelcome amount of courage.

“You, uh, you know you’re family, right?” he said, regretting not having uttered the words all those weeks back in the bunker when he knew the angel had badly needed to hear them.

For a long time Cas did nothing to acknowledge the sentiment, to the point where Dean was unsure if he’d even heard it. “I appreciate that,” he finally responded quietly enough that the sound was almost swallowed up by the ever falling snow.

When the path allowed it, Dean took the opportunity to match the angel’s pace and walk next to him. His boots were struggling for grip. He wasn’t quite prepared for the next words leaving Cas’ mouth.

"You never asked me where Hanna went the first time she left her vessel," the angel stated casually as they walked on through the snow, his breath coming out in puffs of white.

"Figured you'd tell me if it’s important." Dean didn’t know why he got defensive. Maybe Cas had been right all along and this wasn't such a great idea but now that he finally got the angel to share things he'd be damned to stop him.

"She was my friend. We spent a lot of time together. It never occurred to you to ask?"

Dean bit his lip, guilty as charged.

Cas gave him a sideways glance, showing the hint of a smile in his eyes. "She used to say I was too forgiving of you."

"You think that's true?" Dean asked, though he knew the answer.

Cas remained coy. "Perhaps."

"I'm sorry.” The words rang with honesty but hardly seemed like enough.

Thankfully, Cas still understood. "I know.”

The terrain grew steeper again, effectively ending any conversation which was probably for the best. All hostility had dissipated from the way Cas interacted with him, but the angel was still very guarded around the hunter. The reality of how much Cas had come to expect to be hurt by him was filling him with dread. Of course he’d known he’d messed up but to see the consequences so clearly in the angel’s behavior around him now that he actually bothered to pay attention was something else entirely.

**...**

At some point when the snow had first started to fall more steadily, Dean had remembered the blizzard warning but expertly ignored it. Now the relentless wind blowing sharp little ice crystals in his face made ignoring it difficult. He could barely see Cas in his dark parka in front of him even with just a few feet of space between them. If he was completely honest, he wasn’t even sure which direction they were headed anymore. Cas seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

“We should seek shelter,” he yelled, voice barely carrying over the howling storm around them.

It was easier said than done, seeing as the storm around them was becoming strong enough to shake the trees around them. Heavy lumps of snow dropped from the branches and a lot of Dean’s attention was focused on avoiding being buried alive.

As he barely jumped out of the way of a particularly massive pile of falling snow, he lost his footing on the slippery ground and fell. The contents of his backpack pushed themselves uncomfortably in his spine as he lay on the ground, staring up at the frosted tree tops that made such a stark contrast to the dark clouds visible through them.

He realized too late that right above him one of the branches was losing its battle against the storm.

There was no time to roll out of its way, so Dean just squeezed his eyes shut.

The impact never came.

As he opened his eyes one at a time he found himself looking up at Cas who stood rigidly by his side, a strained look on his face. The air was filled with what felt like pure electricity. It took Dean a moment to realize why. Cas was keeping the blizzard at bay, the divine energy forming something akin to a protective bubble around them. The log that would have crushed Dean was still hovering mid-air above his head. He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins in a delayed reaction to the near-death experience. As soon as he was out of harm’s way, Cas released his hold on the elements and the blizzard descended on them in its full force.

The angel was visibly exhausted. “There is a cabin...” he murmured weakly, pointing in the direction Dean could only assume the path went. He nodded, shaking under the freezing cold.

The two of them somewhat collapsed into each other for support, sharing the burden of dragging themselves through the storm.

Somehow they made it to the cabin right at the point where Dean had made peace with the fact that freezing to death with Cas wasn’t the worst way to go. To even call it a cabin was generous, it was more like a hut but it looked sturdy enough to withstand the weather. For now.

The door was without a lock, allowing easy access. Which was good too, seeing as Dean’s legs felt so frozen he doubted he could have kicked it in. Once inside, Cas immediately collapsed against the wall, sliding to the ground. He definitely had used a great deal of what limited power he had on saving Dean’s ass and making sure they got somewhere safe.

Dean frantically assessed the room they found themselves in. Of course there was no electricity but Dean managed to find some candles and a fire starter kit for the small fireplace. He went to work on getting a fire going, not really sure if his hands were shaking from the cold or out of worry for the semi-conscious angel on the floor.

Even with a small flame dancing in the fireplace, Dean knew that it would take a while for the room to warm up and as far as he cold see there were no blankets that would help his body return to a more endurable temperature. There were, however, thick green curtains framing the single window close to where Cas was huddled. The hunter made quick work out of pulling them from their rod and pulling one around his own shoulders while using the other one to cover the angelic ball of misery at his feet.

Though some part of his brain was aware that it likely wasn’t the cold that was draining Cas, he still found himself touching the angel’s face as if on autopilot. The skin was cold under his fingers but not unnaturally so. He patted the angel’s cheek in an attempt to call him back into consciousness. “Hey, Cas?”

Cas’ eyes fluttered open. “We made it?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean confirmed, relieved at hearing the other’s voice. “Thanks to you.” They stared at each other for what was probably a moment or two longer than what should have been comfortable but Dean didn’t give a shit about that. Not after almost having been turned into a human popsicle.

Cas was the first to look away, making Dean suddenly aware that he was still cradling the angel’s face in his hands. He let go and straightened himself up, offering a hand to Cas to pull him to his feet as well. Once upright, the angel began massaging his temples as if dealing with a bad migraine. “We need to leave as soon as the worst of the storm has passed,” he murmured.

“Agreed, but for now there’s nothing we can do.” Dean pulled his cellphone from his pocket out of habit, but realized the device was dead. He doubted he’d have had coverage in a storm like this anyway.

He sent a grin full of faux confidence the angel’s way. “Join me by the fireplace?”

After while the heat of the small fire did wonders for the hunter’s stiff joints, undoing some of the cold’s damage as he kneeled as close to the fireplace as he could without risking setting himself aflame. Cas, too, seemed to be happy enough, sitting on one of the wooden chairs the cabin had to offer and watching the open flame flicker whenever a particularly strong gust of wind shook the building.

“Is this the type of cabin you had in mind?” the angel asked casually after a long while of silence, completely throwing Dean off guard.

“What?”

“For your retirement.”

Dean turned to look at the angel accusingly. “So you _were_ listening.”

Cas merely shrugged, the picture of innocence. “I do not sleep, Dean.”

The hunter huffed a disbelieving laugh, overplaying the wave of embarrassment that washed over him as he remembered the first night of their trip. “Well, don’t go telling Sam, alright?.”

“Of course not.” Cas shook his head, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. “Though we wouldn’t want him to miss out on all the smoked trout.”

This time Dean’s laugh was genuine. “You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that.”

Cas sent him a knowing smile in return that reached all the way up to his eyes and really, as shitty as their current situation was, Dean wouldn’t have traded this moment for the world.

**...**

Hours later all the previously shared lightheartedness between them had made way for feelings of dread and anxiousness. The storm had been raging on for much longer than either of them had expected initially and still there was no end in sight. The fire was beginning to die down for the second time and Dean was unsure if they had enough material to keep it going.

At least Cas seemed recharged, judging by his restless pacing along the windowed wall. Looking outside it seemed almost as if the world had been completely erased with a wall of white being all that was left.

Dean was slouching in the chair that had previously been occupied by the angel, getting nervous just by watching the tension in the other’s shoulders grow as time went on. “Might wanna save some of that energy for later,” he chastised, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference.

“I dislike staying idle,” Cas grumbled but his voice held an undertone that Dean could not quite place. “It makes me think too much.”

“Oh yeah, we don’t want _that_ ,” Dean joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the angel’s expression he realized he’d misread the room. It was a mixture between irritation and anguish. He held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Sorry.”

Cas turned his back on the hunter, opting to stare at the decided lack of anything outside the window. For a drawn-out moment the only sound was the howling winds outside and the creaking of the cabin around them. Dean knew something was up with the angel, had been even since before they left on this clusterfuck of a hunt. And Sam had been right, Cas definitely did not want to talk about it, which usually would have been fair enough.

Only that Dean had promised to be there from now on.

So instead of pretending like he was none the wiser he got up and crossed the room, stopping a respectable distance away from where the angel was standing and leaning against the wall. “I can see something’s up with you,” he stated, keeping his voice as even and inoffensive as possible. “Wanna share with the class?”

“I...” Cas started but he never formed a full sentence. Dean could see the muscles in the angel’s jaw tense up.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” Dean assured, pushing off the wall to take just one step closer. A moment later he regretted having lost the wall’s support. Cas turned to face him with the most heartbroken look Dean had ever seen on him. When the angel spoke again, the words were full of despair.

“You are the last person who would want to hear about it, Dean.”

Dean swallowed hard, but did not back away. Cas eyed him closely, looking for something in the hunter’s eyes that Dean did not know he could convey. Still, the angel seemed to find what he’d been searching for.

“I like to keep busy,” he explained. “Because when I’m not, then all I can think about is Jack. How we failed him.” He averted his eyes shamefully. “How I failed him.”

And suddenly everything clicked into place.

The mood swings, the excessive drinking, the fidgeting, hell especially the constant look of exhaustion on the angel’s face. This entire time Dean had thought they had been symptoms of Cas’ anger directed toward him- and that had certainly played a part as well- but above anything it was _grief_.

Dean could suddenly see it clear as day and could have kicked himself for once again getting too caught up in his own feelings of wanting to make things right, even though the angel had spelled out to him in no uncertain terms how much he was suffering.

At that moment it didn’t matter what had happened with God, or Lucifer or Mom. All that mattered to Dean was Cas.

“You did the best you could,” Dean said, voice low.

“And yet it wasn’t enough,” Cas responded emptily. “Jack was… not without flaws. But he was eager to learn and become better.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, suddenly feeling his throat closing up ever so slightly as memories of all four of them together in the bunker came crashing down on him.

“Let me ask you something,” Cas said, looking at Dean earnestly. “At the cemetery. When you confronted him. What went through your head?”

It was a question Dean really did not want to answer. But he knew he had to. “All I could see was what he had done to Mom.”

The angel nodded, seemingly appreciating the honest answer before returning his gaze to the window once more. “All _I_ could see was the people I cared for the most destroying each other. And all I could do was watch hopelessly, knowing I’d lose everything.”

“And now that’s what you see over and over whenever you’re not keeping busy.”

“Precisely.” Cas sighed.

Dean was more than familiar with the feeling. He also knew that none of the crap about it _getting easier_ was helpful to anyone. Really, there was nothing he could say.

Outside, the trees were slowly reappearing, though it was also beginning to get darker.

“We should get ready to leave soon,” the angel said quietly.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed reluctantly, feeling exhausted. “We should.”

Cas seemed to be zoned out ,staring into empty space while Dean was already packing their things.

“You comin’?” Dean finally asked impatiently, effectively snapping Cas out of his thoughts.

“Before we do this… There’s something I have to tell you,” Cas said almost nervously. By the tone of his voice it was unrelated to the hunt.

“Alright,” the hunter said, relaxing his posture somewhat.

"When we brought him back. Jack." - the name still didn't roll off the angel's tongue easily-"I made a deal."

Dean immediately felt his stomach drop. That sentence was never followed by 'and now everything is great'. "What kind of deal?" he asked, all impatience forgotten in an instant.

“My life for his." Cas looked up at him with enough emotion to knock him over if he hadn't been too shocked to move even a single muscle. "The Empty didn't want to release him. I told her she'd get me instead."

"How come you’re still here then? We got Jack back didn't we?" Only to lose him again in a much worse way- but Dean still didn’t want to think about that too hard.

Cas laughed bitterly. "She didn't want to take me straight away. She said she wants me to forget about the deal and then, once I find happiness and have everything to lose, that's when she'll claim me." The angel pointedly avoided the hunter’s eyes. “I just thought you should know. Seeing as you are currently invested in my happiness.”

The implication of Dean regaining Cas’ trust being a potential trigger to lose him entirely was too much to handle right then. "Cas, no. We gotta do something!"

Cas shook his head. "There are more pressing matters. Besides, if we find a way to... _d_ _efeat_ God, then maybe this problem solves itself. "

He wasn’t sure what had made Cas tell him all of this _now_ , but Dean couldn't stop himself at that moment. He had to walk the few strides toward Cas to put his hands on the angel's shoulders, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"You matter," he said determinedly, ignoring the hint of doubt in Cas' eyes. "You matter to Sam. You made a difference for Jack." He swallowed hard, squeezing the angels shoulders, and added in a lower voice what was much more of a confession. "You matter to _me_."

Before he could think about how close they were standing and how he'd missed that he took a step back. "So I'm not gonna let you be taken by some. Some big pile of freaking nothing, you hear me?"

There was a soft expression on the angel's face though the exact emotion was still unreadable. "Yes, Dean."

"Good," Dean nodded once, ignoring the fact that his heart was beating just a bit too fast after the exchange. He deflected as best as he could. "So come on, let's go and gank a mountain man."

**...**

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, you guys. I have a final coming up tomorrow (or today I guess, seeing as it's 5 am here) and have reached peak procrastination. So basically what that means is I've more or less finished this story just in time before I'll be leaving for Christmas break. 
> 
> Last chapter will be up sometime tomorrow night (northern european time) as well.


	5. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean face the spirit they've been hunting and a new day comes with some realizations.

Before the blizzard had caught up with them, the snow had reached Dean’s ankles. Now he was sinking in knee-deep in some places, making traversing the terrain difficult. It hadn’t stopped snowing completely but what little remained would hardly slow them down further. Cas did seem much calmer since they had started walking and he was leading the way once more with determination, burning Enochian sigils into every other tree to mark their path. However, now that Dean was aware of it, he could clearly see the sadness weighing down the angel’s movements.

After what felt like an eternity of stomping through the semi-darkness while navigating around hills of freshly fallen snow with only a single flashlight to guide them, Cas suddenly stopped without warning, causing Dean to gracelessly bump into him. The angel cursed to himself, looking at the ground at his feet. After having shaken off the surprise of the collision, Dean stepped up next him to get a look at what lay in their path.

Illuminated by the shine of Dean’s flashlight, a hand was sticking out from the snow.

Some digging revealed a pair of very broken arms, attached to a body that was as good as frozen stiff. They immediately recognized the unmistakable handlebar mustache.

“Shit,” Dean mumbled under his breath.

“We must be getting close to the mine,” Cas concluded, already on the move again.

“What about the sheriff?”

“I doubt he’d be of help in his current state.” The angel deadpanned, sounding ever so slightly annoyed.

Dean had no comeback to that.

Not much later they did indeed stumble across the mine, almost by accident. Its entrance was hidden by shrubbery and on top of that the blizzard had almost completely covered it with snow. If it hadn’t been for Cas paying such close attention to their surroundings, Dean was sure he would have walked right past it.

“I fucking hate snow,” the hunter complained, looking for something that would help them dig through to the entrance for access. He was starting to get cold again.

Cas was already using a thick branch to poke through the snow, making it look so easy. Show-off.

Once Dean joined him with a branch of his own, their combined effort quickly loosened up the snow enough for the entire snow-wall to cave in, revealing a deep tunnel.

“Alright, I guess this is it,” Dean said. They had used some time while being snowed in at the cabin to talk strategy, but without being able to reach Sam it wasn’t like they had come to any epiphanies. The plan was simply to go in and kill the thing, preferably without getting themselves killed first.

Easy.

**...**

  
  


Inside the mine the air felt unexpectedly warm and damp, especially after all the time spent outside in the biting cold. It would have been a welcome change if it hadn’t been for the smell of something rotting away in the depths of the cavern. Dean was leading the way this time since he was the one with the light source. He could feel the angel walking closely behind.

The further they got into the mine, the more uneasy the hunter began to feel. He had never been a fan of enclosed spaces to begin with, and knowing how far away from the outside world they must have been by now only added to the discomfort.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. For a brief moment he thought Cas had sensed his unease and was trying to reassure him but when he turned to look at the angel, he merely motioned to the hunter to be quiet and listen. There was no time to be disappointed.

As Dean listened closely he could make out a faint metallic sound coming from straight ahead. Like someone was repeatedly hitting the rock wall with something heavy. He nodded at Cas, signaling that he had heard. His grip around his gun tightened as they walked on.

Not much further down the shaft, Dean believed he could see a sort of glimmer in the darkness ahead. He turned off his flashlight. They were engulfed by darkness but still the glimmer remained. Cas blindly pushed his way past Dean to walk almost protectively in front of him. The hunter could see the metal of the angel blade reflecting some of the light as they came closer to its source.

At some point, when the light was beginning to get much brighter, Dean peripherally noticed that the noise had stopped just as his eyes started to droop a bit. He blamed it on the long day that lay behind them. Anyone would be tired after that. And it was so nice and warm inside the cave.

He barely suppressed a yawn.

A few yards later his entire body began to feel really heavy.

Every step required enormous amounts of effort.

Cas and his shiny blade were getting further and further ahead of him.

Surely it wouldn’t hurt to sit down.

Just for a moment.

Dean allowed himself to sink to the ground, resting his back against the damp tunnel wall. His eyes were already shut before he was fully seated.

Some still conscious part of him wanted to call out to Cas and warn him that something wasn’t quite right but he couldn’t move a muscle.

A deep resounding voice suddenly spoke from somewhere next to him. Or maybe it came from above? Dean felt like in a dream.

“You dare disturb my home.”

Warm puffs of air washed over Dean, and he could feel his heartbeat grow slower and slower as he sank deeper into nothingness.

  
  


“Dean!”

Another voice, a familiar one this time, pulled him ever so slightly back into consciousness. He heard the thundering sound of hooves, which was silly. What a weird dream.

“Dean, cover your mouth!”

There was a crash followed by tremors, like something large and heavy was colliding with the wall. Somewhere a horse whinnied. That too helped shake the hunter awake.

Instinctively he covered his mouth and nostrils with the puffy collar of the jacket he was wearing, hoping it would be enough. He almost instantly felt the effect of the spirit’s poison wear off now that he was no longer actively breathing it in.

It took him another moment to fully collect himself before he rose to his feet, making sure to still have his gun. Keeping his left hand protectively over his collar to keep it in place, he aimed at the ongoing battle between Cas and… what looked to be a giant horse? So he hadn’t been going completely insane, good to know.

  
  


Towering over the angel, the spirit seemed at a clear advantage, but now it was two against one.

“Hey,” Dean called out, effectively catching the spirit’s attention. It stepped away from Cas and sped towards him instead, eyes red like hellfire. “Why the long face?” Dean couldn’t resist the one-liner before firing twice.

Both shots hit.

The spirit whinnied in anger but seemed unhurt.

That was a no for silver bullets then.

He fully expected the creature to come at him full force and crush him like he was a porcelain doll but instead it spun around, transforming before his eyes.

Instead of a giant horse, it was now appearing as an eight foot tall man with a floor-length beard standing in front of him. Its posture was hunched over so it could even fit the mine shaft.

“You think you can mock me, human,” it said, voice booming through the tunnels. Behind it, Dean could see Cas sneaking closer, angel blade ready to strike.

Without so much as a glance around, the spirit flicked its wrist, sending the angel flying against the wall and causing him to drop his weapon.

“Your angel is weak,” the spirit murmured. “You are no match for me.”

It launched itself at Dean but he had anticipated the attack and jumped out of the way in time, careful to keep his face covered. He took the brief moment of the spirit’s disorientation to rush to Cas’ side, tossing his useless gun for now. “You okay?” he asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice when he saw the cuts and bruises on the angel’s face.

Cas glared darkly at the spirit, wiping blood from his nose. “I’m fine.”

  
  


This was all the words they got in before the spirit hurled itself at them once more with a thundering roar. “You should never have come here!”

Both hunter and angel sidestepped it like they were following a choreography.

“You were killing innocent people,” Cas growled.

“They came to take my treasure,” the spirit yelled back. “I did what I thought was just.”

“And we will do the same,” the angel responded coldly.

  
  


Dean, now closest to the angel blade, took the ongoing exchange as an opportunity to slowly grab it. Again the spirit seemed to sense the movement even though it was facing the other way. This time instead of attacking it disappeared.

Dean frowned but stayed alert. “What the-”

“Dean, watch out!”

He felt the awfully familiar pain of being hit in the head from the behind. The strike sent him falling forward to his knees. As the impact had him seeing spots before his eyes, he realized a moment too late that his collar had slipped from his face. The poison entered his system almost instantly, much more potent than it had been earlier.

“Cas!” he called out, fighting the urge to close his eyes. He thought he could make out the angel’s silhouette somewhere above him, blindly tossing the angel blade at it. Even with his collar covering the bottom half of his face he was still feeling the numbing effect of the poisonous air. It felt much like it had in the middle of the blizzard, where he had barely been able to make out what had been in front of him.

All he could see was what he thought was Cas fighting but there was no one else there. Still, Cas was dodging attacks and stabbing at the air.

When his mind cleared up a bit, he realized that the spirit could not only shape-shift into a giant goddamn horse it could also turn invisible.

“Give me a break,” he muttered into his collar. He began looking around for anything he could use to aid Cas. His gun was nowhere in sight, not that it had been particularly helpful. Neither was his backpack, which he had also lost at some point.

His mind was racing, trying to come up with something. When he did, he knew he was about to risk a lot but there was no time to continue the search for a better plan.

“You’re a coward, you know that,” he called out before he could think too much about how bad an idea it was. He could see Cas sending him a glare before the angel’s attention was back on not getting himself killed.

“I mean it,” Dean continued yelling at the air. “You must be really scared of us if you gotta hide like this.” He really hoped this was going to work as intended. “Looks like we’re a match for you after all. A human and a weakened angel. Didn’t expect that, did ya?”

He flinched slightly, praying he hadn’t overdone it.

His intention was to play against the spirit’s ego, not to fuel its rage.

“You do not know what you are saying.” The spirit seemingly materialized right in front of him, taking the bait. It bent down to glare at Dean, fiery eyes burning into his. “I could never fear you. Your earthly weapon cannot harm me.”

“Nope.” Dean smiled, looking past his towering opponent. “But his can.”

The realization of having fallen for a trap came too late for the spirit as Cas buried his angel blade into its body. A deafening roar escaped it as it was flooded by divine energy and torn apart from the inside. The guttural sound still echoed through the endless tunnels around them even after it was gone.

Dean let himself fall backwards onto the ground, heart beating all the way in his throat. Cas dropped to the ground next to him, labored breathing matching his own.

“That was… new.” Dean said after a moment, not even trying to hide the exhaustion in his voice.

Cas just murmured his agreement, still catching his own breath.

They only allowed themselves to rest for a short while, just enough so they didn’t feel like they were dying anymore, basically. It felt anticlimactic without having a body there as they gathered everything they had dropped and assessed their respective injuries.

Dean was mostly fine, save for a headache and sore knees. The poison didn’t seem to have any lasting effect. Cas on the other hand had seen better days. His face was covered in his own blood and he was nursing his ribs from where he’d been flung against the wall.

“You gonna be alright?” Dean asked, putting a hand on the angel’s shoulder in a shameless excuse to touch him.

Cas rolled his eyes ever so slightly before the gashes on his face closed themselves until they were merely scrapes. He also straightened up his posture, prompting Dean to remove his hand from where it lay on his shoulder.

Next to where Dean had first collapsed under the poison he found his gun and flashlight, using the latter to look around. He realized they still were not at the source of the light that had been illuminating their battlefield this entire time.

Curiosity got the better of him and he headed toward it, rounding the nearest corner. He was met by a cave which marked a dead end to the tunnel they were in. Several oil lamps were hanging from hooks in the wall and a lone pick axe was lying next to a bucket filled to the brim with rocks.

“That’s it?” he asked incredulously once he noticed Cas standing next to him. “That’s the treasure it’s been massacring people over?”

“It mines ore,” the angel explained tiredly. “It is its sole purpose.”

“Huh.” Dean was ready to leave all of this behind him and move on. “Think there’s a chance of finding any of the victims alive?”

Cas stoically pointed him toward the far end of the cave. It took Dean a moment to recognize the pile of clothes as the remaining two bodies. “Yeah, didn’t think so,” he murmured defeatedly.

At least there wouldn’t be any more victims.

It was time to leave.

**...**

Outside the air was still biting cold but after spending all night in the stuffy mine it was a pleasant change. The snow had stopped too. Dean inhaled deeply, cherishing the way the icy air burned his lungs. He shivered while Cas didn't seem affected.

Dean took out his phone, optimistic to get it to cooperate. Lo and behold, it had survived the fight – what was a scratch more, really- and after it had been out of the freezing cold it did in fact turn on. Maybe a bit slower than it used to, but still.

What was more surprising was that he actually had coverage in the middle of nowhere, as evidenced by the cacophony of incoming messages. All from Sam, of course.

The latest one dated back to just after midnight.

_Eileen dug up another file. Angel blade should do the trick. CALL ASAP._

Dean chuckled at the message. Would have been good to know that from the start. He quickly typed up a reply, assuring his brother that both him and Cas were alive and the case was closed.

Above the mountains the faint glimmer of daybreak began to highlight the peaks surrounding them. The clouds had thinned out and Dean was sure it would be a breathtaking sunrise.

Cas lead the way as they were on the lookout for the main trail they had had left the day before. It didn't take them long to find it with the angel's trace of sigils still in place. Cas let them disappear one by one as they passed them.

The landscape had transformed into a true winter wonderland around them and Dean found himself feeling a lot lighter. As much as he wished for some well-earned sleep by this point he was in no real hurry. The hunt had decidedly been more taxing than either of them had anticipated but it had done what Dean had intended for it to do. It had bridged some of the gap between him and the angel.

 _His_ angel, if one were to believe the mountain spirit.

But Dean knew that Cas wasn’t his, or anyone’s. Cas was his own person with his own struggles and for years Dean had neglected that, often having seen the angel as an extension of himself. They had, after all, always shared a profound bond. Sometimes it was all too easy to get lost in that.

Dean was also well aware that there were many more things they needed to talk about that had so far gone unacknowledged between them. Missed chances. _Feelings_.

But it would have to wait for another time because now that was not what Cas needed from him. What he needed most right now was a friend, someone to lean on. Dean would gladly be exactly that. And maybe down the line they could find a way to get Jack back, seeing as the whole Eileen situation had shown once more that there was always another loophole.

He simply wanted Cas to be happy for once. With no strings attached, and no threats looming over them. And if the Empty, or God, or anyone else dared to even think about taking that away from the angel, then Dean would fight them personally. No matter the cost.

Just as the first rays of the sun broke through the scattered clouds, they came to a small body of water that had been invisible in the dark on their hike to the mine. It stopped Dean in his tracks and he softly called out to Cas who had gotten more and more ahead while he’d been lost in thought. "Hey!"

Cas turned around and, probably realizing Dean had been falling behind, quickly made his way back to the hunter. He looked worried. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing." Dean ran a tongue over his cold-chapped lips in a suddenly nervous gesture. Why was he nervous? "Let's, uh. Let's just stay here for a bit?" He motioned vaguely toward the mountains which were slowly being dipped into a pink coating of light.

Cas visibly relaxed as he followed the hunter's gaze. "Of course," he said and stepped next to Dean at the water's edge.

They stood just this side of too close but in a familiar way and Dean didn't know if it was still the adrenaline from a hunt well done or the breathtaking view of the sunrise or maybe if he was just sick of the distance between them, but he threw an arm over Cas' shoulders before he could talk himself out of it. It was a casual gesture, yet he still feared the angel's reaction.

Cas didn't move away. If anything he seemed to relax even more under the touch. Dean couldn't help but steal a sideways glance at the angel's face, a smile tugging at his lips. The smile disappeared when he saw Cas staring blankly at the sight before them.

"Jack would have loved seeing this," he said and Dean suddenly understood where the melancholy in Cas' eyes came from.

"Yeah." It was all Dean could offer. This wasn't the moment to promise to get the boy back. It was a moment to honor his memory.

He felt Cas' weight shift slightly, moving them even closer, looking for comfort Dean was more than willing to give. Emboldened by the silent request he tightened the arm he had around the angel's shoulders, transforming a casual gesture into a sideways hug that was much more intimate. Cas sighed softly, leaning into the embrace fully as Dean held him.

They stood like that as they watched the sun rise fully above the peaks.

It felt like a new beginning in more than one way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's a wrap.  
> Admittedly, I'm neither the best at writing cases nor slow-burn so to combine both in one story was kind of insane on my part. But I gotta say, I at least don't hate it. It's been fun. 
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
